The Wit of Whitlam

Carleton

PROLOGUE

E G Whitlam came here in the beginning of 1932 and left at the end of 1934. He obtained fifth in the state in English and third in the state in Latin, and was awarded a Canberra scholarship.

Gough took no part in the School’s sporting activities, but he took a surprising pleasure in social activities, maintaining that Terpsichore was not for nought counted among the Muses.

His verse translations of the Greek and Roman poets are remarkable for their accuracy of rendering and facility of expression, and have gained high praise from competent critics.

His original work, not often serious in intention, is full of that rare subtlety that is so seldom found in this age of vulgar and blatant humourists.

Extract from The Canberran, 1935

Within Australia’s shores, where men are cold

To learning’s quickening influence as yet,

The man of arts is likely to regret

The benefits our solitudes withhold:

He yearns for countries where traditions old

Of music, letters, art are proudly set,

Where Florence, Paris, Weimar still beget

A recollection of the Age of Gold.

Yet times there are, though culture’s rays endure

Those peoples with a charm that men revere,

When spite the heritage of great and true

The soul must crave our younger atmosphere:

We have the verdant vista of the New,

New skies to scale, new paths to pioneer.

E.G.W. (Age 18)

And thus Palaemon: ‘Servile band!

I do not flinch but sneeze at your command.

I die, as I have lived, beyond control

As master of my fate and captain of my soul.’

E.G.W. (Age 18)

‘That fellow Whitlam will lead the Labor Party one day. It won’t be dull.’

Sir Robert Menzies, in Troy Bramston, The Australian, 2014

‘I could recognise the symptoms: a tendency to overstatement, an apparent bumptiousness, an ironic egotism that is more often seen as arrogance than the self-deprecation that is intended. It is the fate of large intellectuals to be frequently misunderstood … He was never aloof, never a snob, and never cruel.’

Mungo MacCallum, The Australian, 2014

‘I was present at the Caucus meeting at which Gough made the famous remark I’m the best Foreign Minister this country’s ever had. It did not go down well with the public because they saw it as another example of his conceit and arrogance. What the public missed, however, was the twinkle in his eye, which made those present realise that, while he was not unaware of his capabilities, he was sending himself up—to a degree. People laughed uproariously when they heard him say such outrageous things but winced when they saw it in print.’

Barry Cohen, 2001

1

PUNCTILIOUS

PROCLAMATIONS

AND PECCADILLOES

Gough celebrated his ninety-second birthday seven months after the election of Kevin Rudd, and four months before the election of Barack Obama.

‘It is of course a revolution in itself that Australia should now have a Mandarin-speaking Prime Minister. In the United States they are looking forward to an English-speaking President.’

Gough Whitlam, birthday celebrations, 2008

Returning from a prime ministerial trip abroad, Gough received a report from the head of security at Kirribilli House. The deputy prime minister, Jim Cairns, had taken residence, and a routine patrol of the harbourfront gardens had revealed a most embarrassing situation involving him and a female member of his staff.

Gough said the couple were:

‘In flagrante delicto, alfresco.’

Malcolm Farr, 2014

Before beginning a speech one day, Gough, as a tall man, angled the microphone upward, so that it would capture his voice. The microphone then sagged, so he tried again. After the third attempt, he declared:

‘The harder you try, the more it droops.’

Barry Cohen, 2001

The United Nations was traditionally referred to as the United Nations Organisation. It is a distinct honour to be a delegate to the General Assembly of UNO, colloquially pronounced ‘u-no’.

Gough recalled such appointments were discussed by MPs’ wives, each keen for their betrothed to be so honoured.

‘One was known to have asked another if her husband was interested in UNO. She was scarcely reassured by the reply that he thought about nothing else.’

Gough Whitlam to Colin Hollis, 1996

Lady Violet Braddon (1899–1980) was a wealthy arch-conservative known for her voluminous and intemperate letter writing. When Gough learned her second husband was Sir Henry Braddon, head of the Dalgety empire, he reached for Who’s Who, to discover she was thirty-six years younger than he.

‘It seems Lady Violet was inviolate.’

Gillian Appleton, 2014

In 1967, a caucus ballot was conducted to determine which senator would join a parliamentary delegation to the south-west Pacific.

Once the deputy whip had written the names of the candidates on a blackboard, as follows:

BISHOP

CANT

POKE

TANGNEY

Gough said:

‘Of course he can’t.’

Barry Cohen, 2001

In the hours after he was dismissed, journalist Niki Savva asked Gough if she could have her photograph taken with him in King’s Hall. At the time, the media was full of allegations of sexual harassment against a New South Wales Liberal minister. When Gough asked if he could put his arm around her, she mistook this for political caution.

As the photograph was about to be taken, Gough whispered in her ear:

‘Hold on a moment while I adjust my left testicle.’

Niki Savva, 2014

As a tailor prepared to take the inside measurement of Gough’s leg, he nervously asked ‘Prime Minister, to which side do you dress, the left or right?’

‘Both sides, Comrade, both sides.’

Barry Cohen, 1987

As a young Royal Australian Air Force navigator during World War II, Gough flew hundreds of reconnaissance, escort and bombing missions in Australia’s north and over islands in the Pacific. He methodically and meticulously recorded each by hand in logbooks. After the war—still using official RAAF logbooks helpfully supplied by Defence ministers— he maintained the habit as a passenger for every flight he took until 2007. The logbooks detail the type of aircraft, flight number, aircraft registration number, departure and arrival places and times, the length of journey, and where possible, the names of the pilots and crew.

More than once, commercial airline flights were delayed as Gough refused to board until the information was at hand. From 1942, Gough embarked on 5,800 flights involving 13,500 flying hours.

Troy Bramston, correspondence, 2014

Gough developed and maintained his own index of Hansard from the 1950s to the 2000s. He received Hansard in the mail and read through the parliamentary proceedings at length. Gough made extensive notes and would often cross-reference volumes that were dated decades apart. Without care for his ‘emissions footprint’, he carried Hansard in the boot of his Commonwealth car.

The Hansard office would occasionally receive a fax from Whitlam, pointing out errors and urging them to be corrected.

Troy Bramston, correspondence, 2014

Gough began his National Press Club address of 1997 by cataloguing his numerous prior speeches going back more than 40 years.

‘I thought it prudent to present these credentials, just in case. After all, the ABC is televising this live.

‘I haven’t submitted a text and you haven’t submitted your questions. So I suppose the Minister and the Board of the ABC will just have to take me on trust.’

Gough Whitlam, National Press Club, 1997

Gough had an endearing trait of recalling for the benefit of his staff, the virtues of their predecessors. Bob Millar was Gough’s long-time driver until Gough left politics in 1978. His new driver, Charlie Geddes, took a wrong turn and was reprimanded:

‘Millar would never have done that.’

Charlie replied:

‘That’s good, because you’ve just got enough time to catch Bob’s 3.22pm bus from Woden.’

Mark Latham, cited in Barry Cohen, 2001

In 1999, as the Yugoslav civil war was reaching its end, the president of the New South Wales Legislative Council, Meredith Burgmann, joined Gough to attend the Serbian National Day celebrations at the Sydney Consulate. Her speech had been drafted by the protocol division of the Premier’s Department and had her delivering a toast to Slobodan Milošević. She showed Gough, who advised:

‘Comrade, just toast the government and the people of Serbia who were our allies in both world wars … WELL BEFORE THE AMERICANS.’

She took his advice.

Meredith Burgmann, 2014

Dr Gilbert Bogle was a physicist at the CSIRO. He died mysteriously on the banks of Sydney’s Lane Cover River—in an area known as lover’s lane— alongside Margaret Chandler on 1 January 1963. Remembering that Meredith’s father was a CSIRO chairman, Gough asked:

‘Surely he must have known who killed Bogle and Chandler?’

Meredith Burgmann, 2014

In 1998 Gough agreed to launch Meredith’s book on the Builders Labourers Federation, Green Bans, Red Union.

He noted the venue—New South Wales Parliament’s Jubilee Room—was encircled by an ornate balcony six metres above the guests. It was from there—with the full Mussolini effect—that Gough launched the